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A collaboration over too much coffee.
coffee and pen

29 October, 2004


An inexplicable deep anxiety grips my soul.
I am tormented by the thought that love still eludes me.
Dejection, rejection and castration
Are all I can offer myself
While content with the knowledge that
My person is no less beautiful than any other.

I am coming to terms with my selfishness,
I am learning to accept it slowly.
It’s distasteful but true.
I feel ashamed of it but see no stolid reason to change.
Even the little change I do adopt now and then
Is hypocritical, I know:
A thin shell that can crack in a whim

I like to be brash but cannot take brashness.
My ego hurts terribly when
My vanity faces silly encumbrances.
Am I really this shallow a person? I must be.

I’m looking for love
But my motive is selfish nonetheless.
I can’t bear to look at myself
That am desperate for someone else
To find any faint resemblance to goodness in me.
And there again I’ve lost
For the lot I’ve thrown myself into
Is the only lot that might appreciate me.

Life is a sick game.
They tell you the good will win in the end
And if you listen and they do then you’re lucky.
But the signs are otherwise.
The signs favor the bad
So supposing you’re good and then bad wins,
You miss out on everything.
Tough luck huh!

I feel sadder each day,
With a huge sorrow growing only deeper inside me.
Something I’m too scared to share with anyone.
Something I can’t share with anyone.
How much I loathe myself!
I feel stupid asking God for forgiveness -
How many times will He just go on?

I know I can’t promise
Not to stray from the path of righteousness.
Do I hurt people? Yes.
Do I lie? Blatantly.
Dishonesty - it kills you from within.
I wish I could stop myself.

I’m such a weakling and I pretend to be so strong.
My whole life is a pretense.
What’s my purpose? What’s my purpose?
I cannot go on living like this.
It hurts.
My existence has absolutely no meaning.

Why am I like this?
The pleasures that have me hanging on to them lustily
Are so veneer. Why can’t I let go?
Why will I not succor what’s important?
People bore me to death.
There isn’t anyone whose company can hold me in a spell.
I just flow on with the masses.

You know what I’m talking about don’t You?
I’m desperate.
I know I’m not sick or maimed
But if I needed help ever,
I need it now so badly.
My heartbeat has vanished and so has my will
I am living the life of a zombie.




Anonymous Anonymous said...

Oh my God, i definitely do know what you are talking about.....these are exactly the lines i would use to express my present thoughts, had i been blessed with writing skills.....

29 October, 2004 09:58  
Blogger Max Babi said...

Whew! Whoa !!

I had to read this three times,
and even then felt like a voyeur
peeping into someone's soul...

Your entry Sonia, in bulldozer style
is going to raise a cacophony of yelps and hollers
and may be some praising pipsqueaks like this too.

Keep at it ....
great stuff.


PS : put your name under it as (c) Sonia Menezes.

29 October, 2004 16:20  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Just makes me want to comfort and console and say that it's really not so bad. Life can be good once one comes to terms with oneself.

29 October, 2004 23:09  

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